Murder on Pleasant Avenue
Page 12
Frank doubted that was a good idea. “Maybe you should give her a few days. She’s probably still pretty upset over what happened.”
“Yes, well, if the way she carried on when Lisa showed up is any indication, I suppose you’re right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I shouldn’t say anything, but . . . It was awful. So embarrassing for everyone. Jane apparently hadn’t expected Lisa to come for her so soon, so she wasn’t packed and this upset her. Lisa went up to help, but that only made it worse. Jane can be . . . emotional when things don’t go her way. She was nearly hysterical when she finally left.”
“Then that’s another good reason to give her some time, Mr. McWillam, but I’m glad you warned me. I was hoping to ask Miss Harding some questions, but now I realize this isn’t a good time.”
“Questions about what?”
“About where she was held when she was kidnapped.”
“What does that matter now? You’ll never be able to catch whoever took her.”
“I’m not so sure about that, and you’re wrong. It does matter, if she was held at the flat where Esposito was killed.”
“What makes you think she was?”
“Because people saw a woman with blond hair leaving the flat around the same time Miss Harding escaped.”
“That’s . . . No, you’re wrong. Everyone is saying Esposito was keeping his mistress there, so it couldn’t have been Jane.”
“Maybe people just assumed she was his mistress and was there of her own free will. But this is all just guesswork. I won’t know anything for sure until I talk to Miss Harding. It’s possible it was a completely different woman.”
“Of course it was. There are thousands of women with blond hair in New York.”
“I know. I’m married to one,” Frank said with a reassuring smile. “But I’m sure you can understand that with my partner accused of his murder, I’m anxious to get as much information about Esposito’s death as possible.”
“Of course. I’m sorry, Mr. Malloy. I’m being selfish to just be thinking about Jane.”
“Not at all. It does you credit. I assume from what you said that you were able to see her before she left.”
“Just for a few minutes. Men aren’t permitted in the women’s residence, but the other women were finally able to coax Jane out of her room later in the evening the day she got back. I met her in the hallway, just outside the door that leads to the residence, which wasn’t the best place to have a conversation, as you can imagine.”
“No, I don’t suppose it was.”
“That’s when she told me she was leaving the settlement. She said she’d asked Lisa to come for her, although she expected it would be at least another day or two before she did. Meanwhile, she would remain in her room because she couldn’t bear to talk about what had happened to her.” Like Mrs. Cassidi. Frank hoped it wasn’t for the same reason. “But even if Jane was held at that flat, she wouldn’t know anything about Esposito’s murder yesterday,” McWilliam said.
“You’re probably right, but it seemed like a good place to start. You said everyone’s talking about it. Have you heard any theories about who might have killed Esposito?”
“I’m happy to say not many people think Gino Donatelli did it,” McWilliam said, quite seriously. “I think they might be afraid to talk about the Black Hand, even to conjecture about this, but you have to consider the possibility that one of his own men did it.”
“I’m looking very closely at Balducci.”
McWilliam glanced toward the door, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “They’re saying he’ll take over now that Esposito is dead.”
News certainly traveled fast in this neighborhood if McWilliam had already heard it. “That seemed like a good possibility to me, too. But if Balducci or one of his men killed Esposito, they’ll be anxious to pin it on Gino, won’t they?”
Plainly, McWilliam hadn’t considered this possibility. “That’s terrible.”
“They’re terrible people, Mr. McWilliam.”
McWilliam could only agree. Frank took his leave, not sure he’d learned anything of importance. He was relieved to find Teo waiting for him in the front hallway when he went back downstairs. She escorted him into an empty classroom where they could have a bit of privacy.
“Do you know what happened to Gino?” she asked him, her dark eyes reflecting the anxiety they all felt for the boy.
“He’s fine. We bailed him out of jail, and I made him stay at my house last night because I was afraid the Black Hand might be watching his parents’ house.”
Teo murmured something that might have been a prayer and crossed herself. “Rinaldo wanted to go tell his parents what happened last night, but I convinced him to wait. They’ll be wondering why he didn’t come home, though.”
“I sent them a telegram last night so they wouldn’t worry, and this morning I sent Maeve to tell his parents and collect his things. He’ll be staying with us for the time being.”
“Maeve?” Teo echoed with a curious smile.
“Yes. Why, is something wrong?”
“No, no,” she said, although she plainly found this highly amusing. Frank would have to find out why, but obviously from someone else.
“I just met with McWilliam. He said that people are saying Balducci has taken over the Black Hand.”
“That’s what people expect, I think, so they’re saying it’s true.”
“I see. Have you heard anything else? We need to figure out who else might have killed Esposito. The only way to really protect Gino is to find the real killer.”
“I know, so I’ve been listening this morning to find out what people are saying.” She tugged his sleeve, pulling him farther from the open door in case someone was outside in the hallway. Then she leaned in and whispered, “This sounds so strange that it must be true. People are saying Mrs. Esposito was seen on that block late Wednesday night.”
VII
The Hansom cab dropped Maeve off at the doorstep of the Malloy house. She lugged the bag of Gino’s clothing up the front steps and used her key to open the front door. She’d been planning what she’d say to Gino during the entire trip from Little Italy, trying to find the exact phrasing that would adequately convey her outrage at having his parents think she was Gino’s paramour (or whatever they actually thought she was) while also revealing how Enzo had flirted with her. She was pretty sure she had figured out what to say.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Should she call out to make sure Gino had heard her arrive? She really wanted to make a dramatic entrance.
No sooner had she completed the thought than a strange man stepped out of the parlor. Obviously Italian, his raven hair was shot with gray and he wore a full beard. His dark eyes glared at her from beneath bushy brows, and he made an odd growling sound in his throat that was unmistakably threatening. Then he started toward her.
“Gino!” she shouted. “Hattie! Velvet!” she added, naming the servants who should also be here. Where were they? Had this man done something to them? “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, dropping the bag and reaching back for the doorknob. She could escape out into the street if she had to, although he still might catch her. “Gino!” she tried again.
“Ah, signorina, do not be afraid,” he said in a thick accent.
This was, of course, exactly what someone who was intent on murdering you would say, so Maeve wasn’t fooled. She frantically fumbled for the doorknob, knowing she dared not take her eyes off the stranger. Where was Gino? Why didn’t he come? What on earth was going on?
“Do you not recognize me, signorina?” he asked, coming closer and closer, dangerously close.
Maeve opened her mouth to scream, but the sound of a woman’s laughter stopped her.
“It worked!” the woman cried in obvious delight.
“Gino,” Maeve said, and this time it was an accusation.
The pretty blond woman who had laughed stepped out into the hall. “How nice to see you again, Mazie,” she said.
“You know that’s not my name, Miss Rose,” Maeve said.
“Oh yes,” Verena Rose said. “I keep forgetting.”
No she didn’t. She just liked to annoy Maeve. And of course Maeve had used the name Mazie when she’d first met Verena during a case a few months ago. Verena had been performing in a play with an actor who had gotten himself murdered. “Did you do this?” she asked, indicating Gino’s transformation with a wave of her hand.
“Yes, I did,” Verena said with obvious pride. “I even showed him how to walk so he’d look older.”
“It worked, too. I even fooled you,” Gino added with even more pride.
“I could give you a few pointers, too,” Maeve couldn’t resist adding.
“But you’re not a professional actress,” Verena said. “I have training.”
“And I knew she’d be able to help me with the hair and the beard,” Gino said. “They do that stuff all the time in the theater.”
Maeve could have shown him a thing or two about disguises, but she wouldn’t mention it. If being an actress was only a fairly respectable profession, being a grifter wasn’t respectable at all, and that was where she’d learned what skills she had at formulating a disguise. “Are you wearing greasepaint?” she asked, squinting at Gino’s face.
“Just a little,” Verena said. “I thought his complexion should be darker.”
“From years under the Calabrian sun,” Gino said, still not bothering to pretend he wasn’t delighted at having fooled her, even for a moment. “Look, she even gave me some wrinkles.”
Maeve didn’t look. “All right, so you managed to figure out how to disguise yourself. What do you hope to accomplish by it?”
“Now I can help Mr. Malloy in East Harlem. He’ll need me because nobody there will talk to him, even if they can speak enough English for him to understand.”
“And do you think they’ll talk to a stranger, even one who’s Italian?”
“Teo and Rinaldo will help, too.”
“And what if somebody recognizes you and tells the Black Hand?”
“Nobody will recognize me,” Gino assured her. “Nobody in Italian Harlem really knows me except my family there.”
Maeve thought it was possible he might pull it off, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit it. “Does Mr. Malloy know about this?”
Of course he didn’t, as she could see from Gino’s expression. “Not yet, but he’ll think it’s brilliant.”
Brilliant was a stretch, but Mr. Malloy would probably appreciate the effort. “We’ll see.” She turned to Verena. “You did a good job. I really didn’t recognize him at first.”
Verena blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected a compliment from Maeve, which was the only reason Maeve had given her one. “Thanks.”
“Don’t I get a little credit for my acting?” Gino said with mock despair.
“Yes, but just a little.”
“And you’re going to take me out to dinner at Delmonico’s to thank me,” Verena said sweetly.
“I sure am, as soon as all of this is over,” Gino said with much more enthusiasm than Maeve thought was necessary.
“I brought your clothes,” she said to change the subject.
“Did you tell my parents I was arrested?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes. They took the news pretty well. They’ve probably been expecting it for quite a while now.”
That made Verena laugh out loud, which made Gino frown murderously, but he needed only a moment to recover.
“How did you talk to them?”
“Enzo was there,” she said.
“Enzo,” he repeated, obviously not pleased, which was just what Maeve had been hoping for.
“Yes, he was very helpful. He even asked me to marry him.”
* * *
* * *
Sarah had missed supper at home that night. One of the women at the maternity clinic had had a very difficult birth, and she’d stayed until the woman and her baby seemed well out of danger. The resident midwives could certainly have handled the situation without her help, but she’d felt obligated to stay in case the outcome had been bad. She didn’t want the staff alone to take the blame for the first death at the clinic. Fortunately, no one had died this time. It would happen sooner or later, though. Poverty bred all sorts of dangers that took women and their babies with impunity. Rickets was a common killer, having malformed a woman’s bones years earlier, when she was only a child, and making it impossible for her to give birth naturally. Often the operation to take the baby—even if performed in time—would cause a fatal infection. And that was just one of the silent killers of vulnerable mothers and their infants. Giving women a safe place to deliver wasn’t even half the battle.
By the time Sarah got home, the children were in bed and even Mrs. Malloy had retired to her own rooms. Maeve and Gino were in the parlor with Malloy, probably talking about the case. They all jumped to their feet when she entered. Malloy came forward and kissed her cheek.
“Have you eaten?” Maeve asked.
“Yes, I had supper at the clinic.”
“Is everything, uh, all right?” Malloy asked uneasily. He knew the dangers of childbirth all too well, having lost Brian’s mother that way.
“Yes, everything went well. Mother and baby are doing fine.” A slight exaggeration, but Sarah hoped it would prove true. “Did you find out anything about Esposito’s murder today?”
Malloy told her about his visit with Officer Ogden and Mr. McWilliam and the information Teo had relayed.
“Mrs. Esposito was seen on Pleasant Avenue?” Sarah asked when he was finished.
“That’s what people are saying.”
“But would that be unusual? She probably lives in the neighborhood somewhere.”
“This was very late, apparently,” Malloy said. “Long after respectable women were safely in their houses.”
“And I don’t suppose Esposito’s wife is too worried about being kidnapped,” Gino said, “so she wouldn’t be scared to be out that late.”
“Do you suppose she went to the flat?” Sarah asked.
“If I found out my husband was keeping a mistress, I’d certainly go there to see for myself,” Maeve said.
“Would an Italian woman do that, though?” Sarah asked Gino.
“A lot of them would. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who stabbed him, too. Italian women are pretty emotional about these things.”
“Finding out my husband had set up a place for another woman right under my nose would make me mad enough to stab him,” Maeve said.
“Are you sure you’re not Italian?” Gino asked with a grin.
Maeve ignored him.
“So it’s pretty likely Mrs. Esposito went to the flat the night Esposito was murdered, possibly to confront him or maybe just to make sure the rumors were correct,” Malloy said.
“She knew he wasn’t at home.” Maeve continued the theorizing. “That meant he could have been at the flat and probably the woman was, too.”
“Although if the woman was Jane Harding, we know she wasn’t there, because she’d already escaped and returned to the settlement house by then,” Sarah pointed out.
“But we don’t know the woman was Jane Harding,” Malloy pointed out right back. “If it wasn’t her, then that woman might have gotten mad when Mrs. Esposito showed up.”
“Maybe she didn’t know Esposito was married,” Maeve said. “That c
ould make a woman mad enough to stab him.”
“But people saw the woman leave the flat that morning,” Gino said.
“She could have come back,” Maeve said. “If she was there of her own free will, she probably did.”
“Or she could have killed him before she left,” Sarah said.
“So maybe Mrs. Esposito went there to confront her husband and killed him or maybe his mistress got mad about something and killed him,” Malloy said.
“And maybe Balducci killed him for some reason or just because he wanted to take his place as boss,” Gino added.
“And maybe somebody we haven’t thought of yet killed him for a reason we haven’t figured out yet,” Sarah added.
“Like somebody the Black Hand had kidnapped,” Maeve said.
“Or more likely one of their family members, since they mostly kidnapped children,” Gino said.
“Except Mrs. Cassidi,” Sarah said. “Although I can’t see her sneaking out late at night to confront Esposito. She was too frightened to even leave her house after her ordeal.”
“Her husband might have, though,” Malloy mused. “Especially if he found out what they’d done to her.”
“Or any parent of a kidnapped child,” Sarah said. “If someone took Brian or Catherine from me, I’d probably murder them myself.”
“I’m sure you would, my dear,” Malloy said, “and so would I. But think how much courage it would take to confront the leader of the Black Hand.”
“Not if you could catch him alone and unprotected,” Gino argued, “the way he was in that flat.”
“But whoever killed him didn’t go there intending to kill him,” Maeve said.
They all turned to her in surprise.
“She’s right,” Malloy said after a moment. “Because he was stabbed with a knife that was probably already in the flat.”
Maeve nodded. “So the killer didn’t bring a weapon with him, which means he—or she—probably hadn’t planned to kill him.”
“Unless he thought he could kill Esposito with his bare hands,” Gino said.
This time everyone turned to him, but with disdain.